she could be just any royal, couldn’t she?
“Don’t assume, Annwyl. Please.”
The queen laughed, not making Izzy feel any better. But she abruptly stopped, both of them realizing at the same time that not only was the crowd cheering louder, but there was something standing behind them—breathing.
They looked over their shoulders, and up, Izzy forced to squint because of the suns.
“Oh,” she said on a breath. “An ogre.”
Annwyl quickly counted. “Eight of them, actual y.”
“Wel , you fought Minotaurs before—and won.”
“True. But I was a bit more . . . angry then.”
“Then perhaps you should get angry now.”
“Nor was I chained to you.”
“What does that mean? What’s wrong with being chained to me?”
“Nothing. I’m just—”Annwyl shoved her back, the spiked club the ogre swung over its head slamming into the ground where Izzy had stood. But the power of the swing broke the chain that bound them.
“Nice,” Izzy teased.
Annwyl grinned, winked. “Now,” her queen said, pul ing the short sword, “start running for your life.” While her guests clapped and cheered in excitement at the sight of female combatants, Vateria studied the women closely. After a moment, she looked at Junius, who sat several seats over and a row back as protocol dictated.
“Junius? Is that . . . ?”
“I believe it is, my lady.”
“Oh,” she gasped, clapping her hands together and returning her focus to the arena. “She wil be quite the entertainment in my dungeons.”
“For safety, my lady, you may want to send guards down to the dungeons in case she’s up to something else as wel .”
“Very good idea,” she said, motioning to one of the guards.
“And do you want me to stop the ogres, my lady?” Junius asked.
“No, no. Not yet. Let them have some fun. Then, when they’re nearly done”—Vateria grinned—“I’ll have some fun.” Rhona slipped down the stairs and around another corner. General Varro had given her exact directions. He, like Gaius, had grown up in this palace before they’d raised an army in an attempt to overthrow Thracius’s Empire.
She real y didn’t know if retrieving the Rebel King’s sister would actual y change anything, but they’d come this far....
They reached the end of the hal way Varro had directed them to. According to what she’d been told, she should turn left and go straight until she reached the last dungeon alcove that had several caged chambers.
Pressed against the wal , Rhona motioned to her cousin. Brannie crouched low, and leaned over, trying to see around the blind corner. After a moment, she leaned back. Held up al of her fingers. Ten? Ten guards for one royal’s sister? Then Brannie made a fist and again flashed ten fingers.
Twenty? she mouthed to her cousin.
Brannie nodded.
Wonderful. Wel , there was nothing to be done about it now.
Rhona shrugged. You ready? she silently asked.
Brannie nodded again. But in mid-nod, her gaze slowly moved to a spot behind Rhona.
“They’re more behind us, aren’t there?” Rhona asked, out loud this time.
Her cousin winced. “Uh-huh.”
Rhona let out a breath, her head dropping forward. This day was getting more and more difficult.
Vigholf hauled several human males out of his way so he could watch Annwyl and Izzy through the steel-barred windows.
“Ogres?” He looked at the man standing next to him. “They’re making them fight ogres?”
“Yeah, wel . . . ogres real y like the girls.” The man at least had the grace to grimace a little. “You know. They don’t usual y kil them right off.” Vigholf took a deep breath and focused on the powerful y built, ten-foot-tal monsters towering over his friends. “Wonderful.” He stepped back, examining the hal way he was in. He wondered if he could destroy al this if he shifted. But with just one glance, he knew that a building built by or under the direction of dragons would ensure that foreign dragons couldn’t destroy it al at their whim.
The crowd roared and Vigholf rushed back to the grate. Annwyl was on her back, the sword kicked from her hand, one of the ogres over her, a club raised. Izzy was running from three of them, two of them were wandering around and drooling, and two were trying to escape by digging through the wal .
And just when Vigholf didn’t think it could get any worse, he saw guards at the end of the tunnel run by and head off in the direction Rhona and Brannie had gone in.
His instincts, of course, were to find Rhona and protect her. Gods! It was to protect al of them, but especial y Rhona. Yet he couldn’t, could he?
As difficult as it was for him, they were soldiers on a mission. He couldn’t suddenly treat Rhona or the others as weak females who couldn’t take care of themselves.
So he returned his focus to the pit fight and the ogre slamming its club down again and again, trying to hit a rol ing-and-dodging Annwyl.
“Your girl,” the man next to him said, “she’s not doing too good.”
“She just has to . . . get her bearings.” He hoped.
Rhona impaled another throat and slashed another chest. “Brannie, move!”
As it was on the battlefield when fighting the Irons, the soldiers just kept coming, backing Rhona and Brannie into the hal way. Rhona pushed her cousin by the shoulder, then used the butt of her weapon to fend off another advancing soldier, and unleashed her flame.
The human soldiers screamed and tried to put the flames out, running off or dropping and rol ing on the ground. But the ones who weren’t human, she faced herself.
“Get her, Brannie. Go.”
Rhona let her weapon extend a few more feet and faced the soldiers. “Come on, lads,” she told the dragons. “Let’s get this over with.” Knowing her cousin was holding the line, Brannie charged down the hal way toward the last alcove, striking the guards who stood right outside the steel gates. She cut the arms off one and the head off the other. The one without the head had the keys, so she snatched it off his belt and quickly unlocked the door. She stepped inside but instead of finding multiple chambers, she found only one. One big chamber with only one captive.
The She-dragon was in her human form, nak*d, a gold col ar around her throat, long silver hair framing her face and covering her shoulders and br**sts. She’d been chained to the wal , and cuts, sores, and burns—old and new—littered her human flesh, both eyes swol en shut, nose broken.
Remembering what Annwyl had said to the Rebel King, Brannie now knew her queen to have been right. Vateria had made this dragoness her plaything. Her toy. A fel ow dragon. In fact, now that Brannie thought of it—her cousin! How could Vateria do this to her own cousin?
It always amazed her how some dragons could be no better than the lowliest of humans. Harming others simply for their own amusement.
Brannie would kil a body in battle or if threatened or hungry. But just to watch others hurt? That did nothing but piss Brannie off and, thankful y, it pissed her kin off as wel .
She went to the She-dragon’s side, lifted her chin with her gloved hand.
“My lady? Can you hear me?” She pul ed out the glass bottle King Gaius had given her. “You need to drink this.” The royal turned her head, groaning, but Brannie heard a bit of a snarl and that gave her hope. “Please, my lady. It’l give you strength until we’re free of this place.”
“Never free,” she muttered. “Never.”
“You need to be strong. Please. For your brother.”
Somehow the dragoness forced those swol en eyes open and gazed at Brannie. “Southlander.”
“Your brother sent us. Oh!” Brannie pul ed out the necklace King Gaius had given them before they left. She showed her the stone pendant at the end. “Here. He wanted me to show you this.”
“Gaius.”
“He sent me. But you need to drink this. Now. My cousin can’t hold them off forever.” The royal jerked her head a bit and opened her mouth. Brannie poured the contents of the bottle in.
“Now swal ow that down and I’l get you out of these chains. Gods,” she went on while she tried the keys on the royal’s manacles. “Treating your family like this. I don’t understand it. Yeah, sure. We’l beat the shit out of our kin if they’re asking for it, we Cadwaladrs wil . But that’s it. We’d never do this to each other.”
None of the keys she held worked, so Brannie used her ax. With two hits, the chain broke and she helped the royal to her feet.
“Can you walk?”
In answer to that, the royal went down, her hands grasping at the gold col ar. Brannie realized it must be one of those mystical ones that could keep a dragon in human form. Only this col ar seemed to be doing more than that. Now that the royal was loose from her bonds, the damn thing seemed to be choking her to death.
“Shit,” Brannie said, crouching before the royal and gripping the col ar. She knew absolutely nothing about Magicks and such. She left that to the witches and mages. Too much reading and thinking for Brannie’s tastes. But then how was she going to deal with this thing if she didn’t even know what it was? At the very least she had to deal with it before it kil ed this female.
Brannie studied the thing while desperately trying to ignore that the royal’s human face was turning blue. From what she knew, never a good thing. With a quick glance, she realized that there was a smal lock in the col ar that needed a key. Too bad she didn’t have the key. None of the ones she had were smal enough to fit. She had nothing.
Desperate, Brannie left the royal’s side and went back to her cousin.
“The royal!” she yel ed.
“What about her?” Rhona yel ed back, fighting off three and four dragons at a time.
“She’s got a col ar. I can’t get it off!”
“So?”
“It’s kil ing her!”
Rhona snarled. “Shit and piss!” She tossed her spear to Brannie. “Take over!”
Thankful to be back to what she understood—fighting—Brannie fol owed orders.
Rhona ran to the royal’s side and quickly saw that what Brannie had said was true. The She-dragon’s face was blue, her hands desperately gripping that gold col ar. That bitch Vateria wanted to make sure the royal didn’t escape even if King Gaius had been able to rescue her himself.
Rhona crouched over the royal and pushed her hands away from the col ar. She felt around the metal and saw the smal keyhole, which meant there was a key. A key that probably only Vateria had. But no matter because Rhona was the eldest daughter of Sulien, which was meaningful for two reasons.
She forced her fingers between the col ar and the royal’s neck, hoping to relieve some pressure. Rhona opened her mouth and unleashed molten lava into her free hand. She spread the lava around the col ar before it had a chance to cool and chanted the appropriate words. She watched as the col ar changed from gold to steel to glass.
Rhona broke the col ar then and the royal began to gasp as she took in big gulps of air.